The chair.

The chair.

I remember trying to pick out the perfect chair. My pregnant belly and I waddled all over the metropolitan area in search of the absolute best chair for all of the nursing I was going to be doing in Hannah's room once she was born. I scoured the Internet for advice...fully upholstered vs. exposed wood, nursing stool vs. ottoman, colors, brands, retailers, price...etc. Yes, I even made a comparative spreadsheet. That's how I do it.

Jason and I finally landed on one as we spent an entire afternoon sitting, testing, propping up our feet. This chocolate-colored beauty hailed from Babies 'R' Us, and naturally the coupon I had helped sway our vote in favor of this chair. I loved this chair because it represented a happy place where my baby and I would spend some of our most sacred time together.

When Hannah came, this was our place where we spent hours upon hours nursing for the first two weeks that she was home. But then, as my postpartum issues arose and I could no longer breastfeed, the time spent in this chair stopped. The chair was empty, and I started to resent it.

I had a hard time even looking at the chair when I went into Hannah's room. What a waste. There it sat, a cold reminder of lost bonding between me and my baby. I wanted to sell it on craigslist. I had no use for it.

Until recently...

At four-and-a-half months old, Hannah is getting to an age where she is starting to benefit from a bedtime routine. She is also getting to the age where she can be as tired as ever but she still fusses in denial when we lay her down for the night. Enter the chair's new purpose.

This chair is the designated place for bonding with Hannah as we get her ready to sleep for the night. Daddy sits in the chair and reads to his baby. Mommy sits in the chair, rocks, and sings her angel to sleep. What a beautiful thing.

As strange as it sounds, my "relationship" with this chair made me think about how interesting life can be sometimes. Our expectations of what something or someone should represent exists solely in our minds. Perception changes even when a person or object doesn't because that potential was there all along, we just didn't realize it.

It may feel odd that I'm getting overly deep about something as simple as a chair, but it makes sense to me, because sometimes the most amazing realizations about life come when we least expect it...when we make the effort to sit still, let time stop, and take it all in.